Page 43 of Racing Heat
My thoughts try to shift to safer topics, but I can’t seem to do it. I notice the way his strong legs move as he heads toward me. His white T-shirt is so tight across his chest. For what feels like the hundredth time, I wonder what he looks like underneath that shirt. Are his chest and abs as chiseled as I think they are?
“Hey,” he says when he reaches me.
My own greeting is only a nod.
“I weirded you out yesterday, didn’t I?” he asks me. “I know we had kind of a weird day—the kiss, lunch, and then me callingyou last night. I get it if you just want to be my friend or if I should just stay in the coaching role with you. I know there’s a lot at stake here, but there’s no pressure for you to do or say anything. We can just go back to the way things were between us. I can stop coming here to run with you, and I’ll only talk to you when I need to at the arena. Zero weirdness, I promise.”
I smile and pinch the bridge of my nose. “I’m not sure that’s going to work for me. I’m not sure what’s going on here, but I do know that I haven’t stopped thinking about that kiss since it happened. I’ve wondered what it would be like to kiss you again. And when that waitress hit on you yesterday, I wanted nothing more than to get up and punch her lights out. I’m not usually a jealous woman.” My words trail off and he’s watching me with a wide smile.
“I noticed you didn’t like her. I wondered if it was because she was just being so obvious or if it was because of me.”
“Both, I think. I don’t know.”
My mind feels like it’s all over the place this morning. Like I’m the one who drank so much last night and now my brain isn’t sharp. I thought about him all morning and having him here in front of me isn’t helping things.
“How are we feeling this morning? Ready to get some miles in?” I grin at him, remembering the way he drunkenly spoke last night.
“Nice change of subject,” he says with a smile.
I shrug. “Sorry, was there more you wanted to say?”
“I thought maybe we could come to some sort of a resolution on things. Like am I allowed to kiss you again? Are we just going to continue to dance around this little attraction that’s brewing between us? Or should I just wait until I combust and can’t take it anymore? Because if that happens, there’s no telling where and when I might grab ahold of you and kiss the shit out of you.It might even happen in the middle of the Blaze field for all I know or care.”
His admission makes me take a step back. I’m not sure what to say to the bold statement that he’s made. Truth be told, I’ve never been good at expressing my feelings like that. I’ve only ever danced around it but never said it out loud, because the men I’ve dated—the few that there were—have never been this bold.
“Is this the kind of boldness that only comes with age?” My hand wants to fly to my mouth immediately. I can’t believe I uttered those words out loud. I didn’t mean to.
He snickers. “That’s right. I am a bit older than you, aren’t I? Right out of college makes you twenty-two or -three?” he asks me with a laugh.
I wish he would pull his sunglasses down so that I can see his eyes. His eyes are really beautiful. I’ve never thought that about a man before.
“I’m twenty-two,” I confirm.
That does it. His sunglasses come off and I can see his brown eyes are a bit puffy. I’m guessing from the alcohol. He’s definitely feeling the effects of all the shots.
“Jesus Christ, you’re just a baby then, aren’t you?” he says with a shake of his head.
“How old are you?” I ask him. I always imagined he was in his early thirties.
He snickers. “Well, I’m not twenty-two, that’s for sure.” He watches me for a beat. “How old is too old for you?”
“I don’t think I have an age limit or anything. Clearly, you’re tall enough to ride the ride.”
The words come out of my mouth before I can stop them. His eyes light up and he snickers at my comment.
“Well, well, well. I didn’t think you’d be quite so bold. I kind of like it.”
I smile at him. “So really, how old are you?”
He grimaces before answering me. “I was really hoping to have you be so much more into me before I answered this question.”
“Come on, old man,” I tease him.
Jase pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a huge sigh.
“Look, if it’s that bad, you don’t have to tell me, but now you have me thinking you’re like, almost ready for your senior citizen discount.”
“Funny,” he says with absolutely no trace of humor. “I’m not old enough for that, but I am quite a bit older than you. I’m the ripe old age of thirty-eight.”
